Change is All
by awcanonno
Summary: When a certain miniaturized colonel shows up on his doorstep, Daniel finds that he can't turn the teen away, no matter how awkward it might be. It soon becomes apparent that Jack's clone, now called Jon, needs a bit more than a couch to crash on. A lot more, in fact - and Daniel is determined to see he gets it.
1. Chapter 1

**Change is All**

**Summary: **_When a certain miniaturized colonel shows up on his doorstep, Daniel finds that he can't turn the teen away, no matter how awkward it might be. It soon becomes apparent that Jack's clone, now called Jon, needs a bit more than a couch to crash on. A lot more, in fact - and Daniel is determined to see he gets it._

**Notes:** _First posted on AO3. Complete; I'll post the chapters over here one at a time as I get the chance. __Title taken from a poem of the same name by Olivia Libby._

* * *

**Chapter 1**

#

Daniel could still practically feel layers of grime against his skin and in his hair – even after a rather lengthy shower. What P3X-571 might have lacked in people or any signs of there ever having been intelligent life, it certainly made up for in mud. It was everywhere and since Daniel had managed to fall into the stuff, it had gotten everywhere. He felt dirty, and this from a man who had spent a considerable portion of his career digging around in search of buried artifacts.

Closing the door to his apartment, Daniel dumped his shoulder bag onto the couch and proceeded towards the bathroom, intent upon taking another shower, or maybe even a nice hot bath. Then, he was going to sleep. God, sleep sounded so good.

Alas, his plans were to be thwarted, for no sooner had he flicked on the bathroom light than somebody was knocking at his door. Sighing wearily, the archaeologist peered down at his watch. Honestly, who was bothering him at this time of night? It was already half past nine. His neighbor couldn't possibly need to borrow a cup of sugar – not that he even had any.

Shuffling back to the door, Daniel pulled it open, only to blink at the sight which greeted him. "Jack?" he asked in surprise. "Or, well..."

"Um, yeah. Sort of," the teen on his doormat confirmed, ducking his head a bit sheepishly. "Hey, Danny."

Daniel's brows drew together. "What are you doing here? I mean, is everything all right?" And if it wasn't, why would Jack's clone come to him?

"Oh. No. No, it's fine. I'm... fine," said the boy, a hand kneading the back of his neck. "I was just – well, I know this is probably a bit awkward. I mean, I'm me but... not. Still, I was kinda hoping I could maybe crash on your couch for a while."

"My couch? Jack, what is -"

"Jon," the teen interrupted.

"What?"

"I go by Jon," he said. "Because, well, original-flavor me is Jack, so I'm... I'm Jon, now." Jon gave a strained smile.

"Okay, Jon," Daniel began again slowly, "what's going on? Why do you want to sleep on my couch? Didn't the Air Force get you a place?"

"Well, yes, they did. A pretty decent one, actually. The thing is, the building sort of – well, definitely, it definitely flooded. Not my fault, by the way. Anyhow, the whole building is closed while they replace the plumbing and do repairs and, uh, it seems that's going to take a while," Jon explained, rambling the way Jack always did when requesting a favor he wasn't wholly comfortable asking.

"So, you came here? Jack – Jon, you do remember my place isn't exactly tidy, or spacious for that matter, don't you?" the archaeologist questioned.

"Oh, I remember," said the teen. "It's just that – look, I don't need a lot of space or anything, Daniel. Just somewhere to crash until I get my place back. I would just move somewhere else, but not a lot of people are in a hurry to lease to a kid. I didn't know who else to ask. I don't... I don't have anyone."

Not anymore.

The two words hadn't been said aloud, but Daniel had heard them all the same. As strange as it felt, it didn't change the fact that the youth in front of him was one of his closest friends, had been one and the same as the man he counted on nearly every single day. How could he turn him away?

So, Daniel stepped back a bit, opening his door a little wider. "I'll have to move a few things," he said.

A smile, equal parts relief and gratitude appeared on the boy's face. "Thanks, Danny," Jon said, stooping to pick up the backpack and small duffel bag sitting at his feet. "I really owe you one."

"Yeah, you do," Daniel declared, giving a playful smirk. He shut the door as Jon piled his things onto the far end of the couch. "You hungry?"

Jon's lips pressed together as he clearly deliberated his answer. "Well," he said, "if you're offering..."

"You know what? Just help yourself," offered the scientist, waving towards the kitchen. "Make yourself at home. I'm going to take a quick shower."

"I wasn't going to say anything," Jon teased.

Rolling his eyes, Daniel headed once more for the bathroom, hoping there was actual food in his kitchen for the teen to eat.

#

When Daniel emerged from the shower, the smell of cooking food permeated his apartment. So, there was food in his kitchen.

"That smells good," he said as he stepped into the room.

"It's nothing fancy, Danny-boy," Jon replied as he worked at the stove. "Just a box of mac-n-cheese and some hamburger I found in your freezer."

"You did?" the man asked in surprise.

The teen shot him a look over his shoulder. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's been there since I – or rather, Jack – put it there. Here's hoping it's not too freezer-burned." He shook his head and muttered to himself, "That's just... weird."

Daniel found facing the reality of two Jack O'Neill's rather weird, too.

"Hey, are your bowls – ah, yes, here we are," Jon had begun, opening a cupboard to discover Daniel's dishes were exactly where he remembered. He removed two bowls and set them next to the stove. "You do want some of this, right? I mean, food never was that high on your list of priorities when you've been working. I figure you must be hungry."

"Yeah. That'd be great," Daniel replied, accepting a bowl before digging around in a drawer for a fork. "Actually, I'm a little surprised you found anything to cook. I don't really keep the place well-stocked."

"Speaking of which," said the teen, pausing to eat a bite. "Now, unless you've branched into a new field of science, you might wanna clean out your fridge. At least, I'm pretty sure mold isn't one of the cultures you study."

"That's funny," the anthropologist answered dryly.

"I thought so," Jon said cheekily, digging into his food in a manner that suggested he might not have been eating too regularly. Daniel made a mental note to keep an eye on that. Once they had finished, the teen volunteered to wash the dishes – including the ones already in the sink.

"Are you trying to earn your keep?" Daniel asked with a teasing smirk.

The youth rolled his eyes and proceeded to fill the sink with hot water. "Well, I'm not about to freeload, Daniel. You're a busy man. All I've got on is a couple assignment sheets and an upcoming physics exam."

"An exam?" He'd almost forgotten that Jon had decided to return to high school. "You need any help studying?"

"High school physics? No. I mean, yeah, it's a bit involved, but I've been back at it long enough that it's a cakewalk."

"If you're sure."

"It's high school, Daniel."

"Yeah, but you always made it seem like school wasn't really your thing," Daniel pointed out.

Jon paused in scrubbing a pot to shoot the man a look. "Daniel. I was a colonel in the United States Air Force. You don't really think I'm as dumb as I liked to pretend, do you?"

Daniel studied the boy for a moment, considering all the times Jack had said things that failed to fit into his 'dumb colonel' routine. "Not really," he conceded. "It's still a bit weird hearing you admit that you're smart, though."

"Yeah, well, that Jack's shtick, now," said Jon, returning to his task. "I'm doing things differently, this time."

"Good to hear," Daniel said. And it really was. As much as he appreciated his friend, Jack's feigned confusion wore a bit thin at times. "Well, while you finish here, I'll go clear off the couch for you."

"Copy that," the teen replied. "Oh, and Daniel? Thanks, again. I mean it."

The man gave the boy a smile. "What are friends for?"

Jon's answering smile was all Daniel needed to know he'd made the right decision.

#

Daniel stared up at the ceiling, not sure what had waken him. He lay still to listen for a moment. Then, he heard it, an unfamiliar sound coming from his living room.

Quietly, the archaeologist slipped out of bed, pausing long enough to grab the baseball bat Jack had insisted he keep in his room after his place had been broken into a few years before. He crept down the short hallway, past his cramped office and the bathroom, until he stood in the entryway to the main room.

The sound came again and this time Daniel had no problem identifying it or its origin. It was a low, panicked whimper coming from the teenager asleep on his sofa. Jon was having a nightmare.

Daniel stood there, at a loss for what he should do. He'd only seen Jack have a nightmare once, and that after a particularly harrowing mission. The Air Force officer had been defensive when he asked him about it afterward. Daniel hadn't pressed him and Jack had clearly been fine with that.

Presently, Jon came awake with a gasp, looking around himself wildly for a moment. Then he'd turned to press his face into the pillow in order to muffle his frantic breathing.

Hesitating a moment longer, Daniel finally turned and went back to his bedroom. Jack never liked to acknowledge his demons unless he had to and Daniel knew that Jon would be the same. After all, in many ways they were still the same person.

Daniel wasn't sure how long he stared at his ceiling before he fell asleep once more.

#

Morning found Jon in Daniel's kitchen, cooking yet again. This time, the teen was making pancakes with bacon and eggs.

"I thought you said the food in the fridge was bad," Daniel addressed him around a yawn, wondering how long Jon had been up or if he'd even bothered going back to sleep after his nightmare.

"Well, you see, Daniel, there's this magical place called a grocery store, where they sell fresh, unspoiled food," Jon drawled. "It's actually quite close. You should visit, sometime."

"Right," the man said, making a bit of a face. He'd walked right into that one. Stifling another yawn, he sat down on a stool at the counter. "Did you sleep okay, last night?" he asked.

"Like a baby," the teen glibly lied, tone chipper.

Daniel wasn't sure he'd have known differently if he hadn't been woken himself in the night. He pondered whether he should broach the subject, but figured that if Jon wanted to talk, he'd come to him. So, he left it alone.

"Here, have some flapjacks." Jon moved the plates of food over near where Daniel was seated, turning to snag a clean plate and a fork from the dish drainer for him. He stepped across the room to flip a switch on an appliance and soon the unmistakable sound of a coffee pot percolating reached the man's ears, shortly followed by his favorite aroma.

"You know, you don't have to do this," Daniel said as Jon took the seat beside him. The archaeologist waved his fork to indicate the kitchen. "Really. I mean, not that I don't appreciate it. If you hadn't cooked, I probably would have just had a piece of toast on my way out the door."

"Daniel, your bread was a block of mold," the teen informed him dryly.

He grimaced at the thought. "My point still being, I really don't expect you to earn your keep. You can stay on my couch as long as you need to, Jack. Jon. I meant Jon."

"All right, fine," Jon rolled his eyes, tone flippant. "I'll be messier, will that make you happy? I want to do this, Danny. Not just to say thank you, but because while you may be happy with a slice of toast and convenience store coffee, I'm a growing boy again. I need sustenance. I figure, if I'm going to cook for me, I might as well cook for you, but if you rather I didn't..."

"Okay. I get it. Thank you," Daniel said, giving the boy a smile. He got up to acquire a cup of coffee from the freshly-brewed pot. "Especially for this."

"Can't have you going without your coffee, Daniel. However would you function?"

The man rolled his eyes and they continued with their meal in companionable silence. As he finished his coffee, Daniel glanced at his unlikely house guest. "Do you need a ride to school or anywhere?"

Jon gave him a long look. "Daniel," he said slowly, "I have a car."

Daniel's brow creased. "Aren't you like fifteen, now?"

The teen conceded the point with a tilt of his head. "Being a classified ward of the U.S. Air Force has its perks," he shrugged. "And if anyone else asks, I'm sixteen."

* * *

_Continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

#

Janet moved around the exam room, putting things away after the latest round of post-mission examinations. She moved with an efficiency born of routine, graceful despite the mundaneness of the task or perhaps because of it. It took a couple of minutes for her to notice that she was being observed.

"Daniel," the doctor greeted the archaeologist with a smile. "What can I do for you? Is everything all right?"

Daniel returned the smile, pushing away from the doorway where he'd patiently waited for her to finish her task. "Oh, no, I'm fine. I just had a few pictures from our mission a few weeks ago that I thought Cassie might like to add her collection." He walked closer and held out the envelope of photos he'd printed out for the teen. He had been supplying the girl with landscape photos with regularity for years. Cassie said they gave her inspiration for her drawings.

"That's very kind of you," Janet said, drawing out some of the photos to appreciate them. "They're beautiful."

"I thought so," Daniel replied as she looked back up at him, warm brown gaze meeting his.

"Speaking of Cassandra - she's been asking when you plan to join us for dinner again," she told him.

"Oh," the man said. "I, uh, I have some time this weekend. We don't have another mission until Monday. If that works for you."

"This weekend would be great. How's tomorrow night sound?"

"Tomorrow? Yeah. That, uh, that'd be good," Daniel agreed.

"Good." Janet smiled up at him and Daniel returned the expression. They stood like that for another moment before the doctor gave a nod and then moved off across the room towards her office to put down the envelope. "Does six o'clock work for you?"

He trailed after her as she moved. "Yeah, six is great. Gives me some time to catch up on a few projects. Should I bring anything? Maybe something for dessert?"

"That would be wonderful," she agreed. Moving to her desk, she put the pictures beside her keyboard before turning back to the man. She waited a brief moment for him to either take his leave or say something else. When nothing was forthcoming, her brows puckered together slightly. "Was there anything else?"

There hadn't been, really, until just then as the thought popped back into his head. Daniel considered how best to word the query that had come to him. "Um, well, actually, I was just wondering whether Cassie still had nightmares."

"Nightmares?" Janet echoed. "None recently, as far as I'm aware, though she used to suffer from them quite regularly for a while."

"Because of what happened on her planet. She's already been through a lot for someone her age," he said. He'd already known all this. The whole of SG-1 knew this, as they had all remained close with Cassandra over the years.

The redhead gave him a speculative gaze. "Daniel, what is this really about?"

"I beg your pardon?" Daniel blinked, trying to feign ignorance even while trying to come up with a plausible answer to her query.

"Don't play dumb," Janet chided. "What is this really about? Why suddenly bring up Cassandra's nightmares? And I know she hasn't said something to you because that's why we've just planned dinner for tomorrow night."

He ducked his head sheepishly. It wasn't surprising that she so easily caught him out. Janet knew him far too well for him to get away with beating around the metaphorical bush. It would be easier to just speak frankly with her, anyway. There wasn't any reason not to, despite the lingering awkwardness he felt at housing his friend's underage duplicate.

"Last night, Jon showed up at my door," Daniel began.

"I'm sorry," the doctor broke in, confused. "Jon?"

"Right. Jack's clone - he goes by Jon, now," he clarified.

Janet nodded, though she appeared a little surprised. "And he just showed up out of the blue?"

"Yes, ah, apparently, his place was flooded and it's going to be a while before everything is repaired, so he was hoping he could crash on my couch for a few days."

"He came to you rather than find new accommodations?" the doctor questioned.

"Yeah. He pointed out that most people aren't in a hurry to rent to a teenager," Daniel said. "I was a bit surprised, myself. That he came to me, that is. I mean, Jack made it seem like Jon was only too happy to go out and start his new life." Although, now that he considered it, he knew very well that Jack himself could put on a good act when he wanted. It wasn't as though Jon had any other choice but to make the best of things after losing everything he had known simply because he wasn't really Jack O'Neill.

"Frankly, I'm not that surprised that he came to you when he was in need," Janet said thoughtfully. "You and the Colonel have been teammates and friends for years. It's not as though Jon has really had much time to form new ties to people. Making friends can be hard for any young person. I imagine it may be even harder for one with the memories of a seasoned military officer."

"You're right," the man agreed, really taking a moment to consider the new challenges the youth must be facing.

"I take it Jon had a nightmare last night," the doctor prompted when he didn't continue.

Daniel blinked rapidly. "Huh? Right. Yes, uh, he did. I heard him... muttering in his sleep." Not precisely true, but close enough. "He woke himself before I could decide whether to wake him or not. This morning, he acted like everything was fine."

"That's not exactly out of character," Janet remarked.

"No. No, it's not," the archaeologist concurred. "And I know that he wouldn't want me to meddle or anything, but I just thought... Well, I know it's not exactly the same. I mean, Cassandra went through the loss of her parents and her people, whereas Jon's head is full of god knows what's holed up in Jack's memories. Still, do you think maybe there is something I could do to help? Or should I just leave it alone? Jack would want me to just pretend like nothing happened, but Jon-"

"Jon's not necessarily Colonel O'Neill, anymore," the doctor concluded, earning a nod from her friend. "Well, it's hard to say, really. As you said, although there are some similarities, the situation with Cassandra is a bit different. With Cassie, it really helped for her to talk about her nightmares and what happened to her and her people. I'd say that it probably depends on Jon. The Colonel isn't one to really open up unless he has to, and despite being much younger..."

"Technically, he's still Jack."

"The same experiences that have made the Colonel who he is are playing a large role in how Jon reacts to things, as well," Janet agreed.

Daniel nodded slowly. "I guess I'll just play it by ear, then," he said. "And maybe it's nothing. I mean, people have nightmares, right? It's not like he hasn't been through a lot. It could've just been a one-off thing."

"Could have been," Janet replied. She wasn't quite convinced, however. Reaching out, she idly adjusted an object on her desk. "So, I guess I'll be planning for four for dinner tomorrow," she stated.

"Oh. Well, I'm not sure Jon will want to come," the man said uncertainly. "I mean, I'll ask him."

"Bring him, Daniel."

"If he wants to come, naturally-"

"Convince him to come," the redhead said firmly. "It will probably do him some good. If nothing else, I wouldn't mind having a look at him, see how he's doing."

"Okay," Daniel agreed, "I'll think of something. Shouldn't be too hard, right?" He gave a wry grin.

"You do have some experience with handling a certain Air Force colonel," Janet stated dryly.

"Tomorrow night, then," he said.

"Tomorrow night," she confirmed with a smile, "six o'clock."

#

Jon sat at his desk, head propped up on one hand and eyes shut as other students found their seats before the bell announced the start of their next class. The drowsiness had crept steadily upon him as he sat through his first two classes, and now just keeping his eyes open felt like a chore. Maybe he would take a nap instead of eating lunch. Naps were great, when they weren't interrupted.

The boy who habitually sat beside Jon entered the room, noting his half-asleep classmate with an amused grin. Holding his history book in the air for a moment, the teen let it fall flat against his desk with loud _ smack _.

In the next instant, Jon had hit the floor, arms instinctively shielding his head. His response had startled more people than the falling book had - including the kid who'd dropped it.

Breathing rapidly, Jon slowly lifted his head, looking around with wide brown eyes. Everyone was staring at him with varying degrees of interest or concern. Then, almost as suddenly as he was on the floor, Jon was on his feet again, snatching up his bag and textbook and headed straight for the door.

"Mr. O'Neill," their teacher addressed him sternly, entering the room just as the bell rang and nearly colliding with her fleeing student. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm sorry. I don't feel well," Jon muttered without sparing the woman a glance, slipping past her out into the hall.

Ms. Vernon turned an inquiring look to the rest of her students, some of whom still appeared a bit startled. No one offered an explanation.

#

Despite himself, Daniel was surprised when he entered his apartment that afternoon to find Jon sitting at his counter. Jon had his head propped up on hand and a textbook opened in front of him. Not that he seemed to be reading said textbook. At least, Daniel didn't recall Jack ever being able to read with his eyes closed. Frowning, he closed the door behind him. Still dozing. Since when did Jack sleep through... well, anything?

"Jon?" Daniel spoke up after taking a couple steps towards the teen. The youth started awake and Daniel would have sworn the grip Jon had on his pencil was less reflex than preparation to defend himself.

"God, Daniel," he grumbled, putting down the writing implement to rub at his eyes. "Do you have to sneak up on a guy when he's sleeping?"

Daniel recognized this tactic. Of course, he did. Jack diverted attention from himself (and his problems) every chance he could. "Well, I do happen to live here," he pointed out dryly. "And I didn't think you had a key, yet. I came home a bit early to make sure you could get in."

"Welcome mat," Jon replied, stretching. "Told you to stop leaving a key under there - or well, less-mini-me did. First place a person looks."

"Right. Of course," said the archaeologist. "How could I forget?"

Jon shrugged in response. He picked up his pencil again, twirling it between his fingers as he turned his attention to his textbook. History, was Daniel's guess as he got close enough to see the pages. Not that the high school text was really holding his focus at the moment.

"Hey, is everything alright?" Daniel asked, trying not to sound overly concerned. "I thought you'd still be in class."

The twirling stopped a good half-minute before Jon lifted his head to look at the man, expression a perfect mask of bemusement. "What? Think I'm playing hooky or something?" he smirked. "Relax, Danny. I get off early on Fridays. I have a free period."

"Well, if you're sure," the man replied, unable to keep from sounding a bit doubtful.

Jon rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure. But if it makes you that nervous, I'll make sure to come back later from now on," he said. His tone became just a bit more serious as he added, "I'm fine, Daniel. Really." He held the man's gaze, refusing to look away first. He wanted - no, he _ needed _ Daniel to believe him. If he could get Daniel to believe him, maybe it'd even be true.

"Okay. Good. That's... good," Daniel finally said, giving a nod. Or at least it would have been were he not even more certain the youth was anything but fine. He turned to walk into the kitchen and start a fresh pot of coffee - an action which elicited a soft snort of amusement from his houseguest. "Watch it, or I might not let you have any," he cautioned lightly.

"Some of us aren't immune to caffeine and plan on sleeping tonight, Daniel," Jon retorted.

_ Do you plan on sleeping? _ The words were on the tip of Daniel's tongue, ready to spring forth, but he knew pressing would only cause the teen to clam up and insist he was fine again. So he settled for shaking his head and snagging a cup from the dish drainer. It was weird to have his kitchen be so clean. Usually there were dishes piled up in the sink and one or two used pots on the stove. He wondered if Jon really planned on keeping his place so clean for the duration of his stay. He knew for a fact that Jack wasn't usually so tidy.

Cup of coffee in hand, Daniel leaned back against the sink a few minutes later. Jon had gone back to his studying, looking about as thrilled by the information as Jack was about reading mission reports. He seemed okay in that moment. If only it weren't for the other moments when he clearly wasn't, Daniel might have been convinced by the act.

Taking a fortifying sip, the man finally broached the topic of dinner with the Fraisers - or as he was now starting to think of it, Mission Find Out What's Wrong with Jon. "So, any plans tomorrow night?" he asked.

"No," the teen replied, seeming glad to pull his attention from his schoolwork. He quirked a brow and it was very easy to see that he was Jack O'Neill. "Should I have plans for tomorrow night?"

"Um, no. Or I guess, actually, now you do," Daniel said with a small smile. "I mentioned to Janet that you were staying here temporarily and she invited us both to dinner."

"Oh. I'm... not sure that's a good idea, Danny-boy," Jon said. Daniel could practically see his defenses rising.

"It's just dinner, Jon," the man cajoled. "Cassie will be there."

"Then it's _ definitely _ not a good idea."

"Cass knows what happened to you. We, well you - Jack-you - told her. I know she'd love to see you, to meet you. And Janet would like to see how you're doing," Daniel said.

"Of course she would!" Jon retorted, tossing his hands up in the air. Yep, this was going about as well as Daniel anticipated. "Not interested. I'm fine, Daniel. Why can't you get that into your head?"

"I never said you weren't," Daniel responded a bit testily. "It's dinner, Jon. And quite frankly, refusing like some... some... moody defensive teenager isn't going to convince anyone that you're 'fine.'"

Jon flinched at this, but didn't verbally respond. He gave Daniel a somewhat suspicious and highly stubborn stare.

The archaeologist sighed. "No one is saying you aren't fine, Jon, but we're your friends and we care about you, and we haven't seen you in months. Is it so wrong that we might worry about you a little?"

Jon dropped his gaze. He was back to twiddling his pencil, the line of his shoulders still tense. Another minute or two passed before he finally relented, posture relaxing a bit in response. "I guess not," the teen allowed, slowly raising his head to peer at the man. "It's just dinner? Doc's not planning to stick me with any needles or anything?" He was mostly asking in jest, although a tone of seriousness remained.

"Just dinner," Daniel agreed, smirking at the boy's antics. _ And a little observation _, he added silently.

"Fine," Jon said, straightening on his stool. "I guess it'd be nice to have a home-cooked meal I didn't have to make myself. And I have missed Cassie. It would great to see her again."

"Great. I'll let Janet know we'll be there tomorrow at six."

"All right."

They gazed uncertainly at each other for a long moment before Jon finally gestured to his book and Daniel nodded and lifted his coffee cup to his lips as he left the kitchen. This really was going to take some more getting used to, but at least soon Daniel would have a second opinion on whether he should be as worried about the young clone as he was.

#

* * *

_Continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

#

This was a bad idea. Jon had known this the moment the invite had crossed Daniel's lips. Bad, bad idea. Knowing this hadn't kept him from allowing the man to talk him into it, however, which is why he was currently riding in the passenger seat of Daniel's sedan as they headed to Fraiser's.

The truth of the matter was that the promise of seeing Cassie again was too great a temptation. Hell, seeing _ Doc Fraiser _ again was a temptation, which was probably a little sad. It was just that Jon found himself yearning for those human connections he once took for granted. He'd never had to think much about them because he'd never expected to lose them, short of himself or others dying - which he definitely never thought about. But he did lose them. It made him feel unreal. He just needed proof that the life he once had wasn't all some elaborate farce born of a lonely mind or something. Maybe he could pretend it was still his life for a little while. Maybe then he would feel less... wrong.

Jon resisted the urge to knock his head against the window but didn't quite manage to suppress a sigh. Feeling Daniel's gaze turn upon him, he shrugged a shoulder. "I should be working on my essay," he mumbled by means of explanation.

"Ah," Daniel said, eyes back on the road. "Well, we don't have to stay very late, so you can still work on it tonight and tomorrow. When is it due?"

"Tuesday," said Jon. He wasn't actually sure when it was due, but he had at least another week. When one is trying to avoid being interrogated by overly-concerned archaeologists, however, stretching the truth came in handy.

"Right, so, probably enough time to finish it."

"Yeah."

"Well, if you need any help-"

"Daniel?" Jon raised a brow at the man.

"It's high school?" Daniel guessed a bit dryly.

"Exactly," he drawled, turning his gaze back out the window.

They had drifted back into silence by the time Daniel steered into the Fraisers' driveway. A battalion of butterflies were set loose in Jon's stomach as he got out of the car. He hesitated before following the archaeologist to the door, silently berating his own nerves. It was just Doc Fraiser and Cassie. No need to be anxious, right?

Daniel had already rang the bell by the time Jon came up beside him, sucking in a slow, steadying breath. The man shot him a look and Jon felt a surge of affectionate gratitude when, instead of saying anything, Daniel just offered a reassuring smile. Bless over-perceptive scientists. Well, some of the time.

The door opened too suddenly, despite expecting just that to occur, and Janet Fraiser stood just beyond the threshold looking out at them. "Daniel," the woman greeted him warmly, clearly happy to see him. Then her brown eyes turned upon Jon and his anxiety instantly cranked up a few notches. Time halted as she looked him over and the young clone was quite certain he'd forgotten how to breathe in that moment. He held himself very still, gazing back at the woman as the butterflies fluttered up into his chest cavity.

"Jon," Fraiser said the name a bit carefully, as though not entirely certain it was right. She gave him a welcoming smile and Jon felt the air trapped in his lungs flow outward as normal respiration resumed. "It's good to see you again. I was hoping Daniel would convince you to come along. Come in, both of you. I was just finishing up in the kitchen."

"Thanks for having me," Jon replied, offering a smile that he hoped expressed how much he meant it. Stepping into the home he had been in dozens of times before, he glanced around, noting how everything was just as he remembered. He felt both validated and hurt. After all, his memories were real and true, yet at the same time, he was different now, and the fact that nothing had changed was proof that his absence didn't alter anything. These people already had a Jonathan O'Neill. In fact, they had the original. What need could they have of him?

Jon didn't pay much attention as Daniel and the doc exchanged pleasantries. He trailed along behind them, his casual perusal of his surroundings becoming more purposeful as they moved towards the back of house. Apparently, Daniel wasn't the only one who could still read him.

"Cassandra's running a bit late getting home from the mall," the doctor told him amusedly. "She called to let me know she should be getting here soon."

"Ah, yes. The mall," Jon said sagely. "Knew we should never have introduced her to that place."

"Wasn't it you that first took her to the mall?" asked Daniel.

"Technically, no," the teenager pointed out smugly.

Janet gave a chuckle and shook her head. "He does have a point. Technically, it was _ Colonel _ O'Neill who first took Cassie to the mall. Jon here is fault free."

"Yeah, Daniel. Way to falsely accuse a guy," said Jon, feigning offense.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Right," he drawled, "what on earth was I thinking?"

"Since you guys are here, why don't you help me get this dinner out on the table?" Janet suggested dryly.

So it was that while Daniel helped moved various food dishes from the kitchen, Jon set the table, grumbling good-naturedly about being too old for chores. It was nice, though, getting ready to have a meal with people he considered friends - family even. The old banter and teasing returned with ease, like no time had passed at all. Danny and the doc still had that obvious chemistry thing going, making Jon wonder if either of them had acted on it, yet. It seemed so ordinary and normal. As a matter of fact, it felt an awful lot like he still belonged. He was just laying out the last of the silverware, watching the other two interact amusedly, when the door behind him flung open.

"Sorry! Sorry, I'm late! Heather and I-" Cassandra was already talking as she came in from the carport at the side of the house, only to break off as a chair clattered loudly to the floor.

All eyes turned to the source. Jon, who had jerked back at the girl's sudden entrance, now stood in a defensive pose, eyes wide in alarm and breathing rapid. One hand gripped the edge of the table while the other was curled tightly around a fork, clearly prepared to wield the utensil as a weapon if necessary.

"Jon?" Daniel spoke slowly, taking a cautious step around the end of the kitchen island. The teen flinched, but otherwise did not respond. Raising his voice only slightly, the anthropologist tried once more, "Jon? Do you hear me? Jon? _ Jack _?"

The young clone's attention snapped over to the man and he finally seemed to be seeing his surroundings again. "Daniel?" he murmured, glancing around bit skittishly. He looked down at the fork in his hand, like he had no idea how it had gotten there. Slowly, he loosened his hold on it, until it was able to tumble from his fingers. "I, uh, I'm just gonna..." His hands fluttered uselessly in the air with his words before he gave up and simply fled. He hadn't quite closed the bathroom door behind him when he heard Cassie asking if he was alright.

Back in the kitchen and dining area, Daniel and Janet exchanged a solemn look. "We think he's having a hard time adjusting," the man answered the girl.

"But you're doing your best to help him, right?" Cassie asked, clearly upset on the clone's behalf. Her hazel gaze flitted between the two adults, brows puckering together in a frown. "_ Right _? You didn't just leave him to deal with everything alone." She was getting that stubborn affronted look on her face that she wore whenever she suspected that some sort of injustice was being done.

"I'm going to go check on him," Daniel said, excusing himself to let Janet explain to her daughter that things weren't that simple. Or maybe she'd reassure the girl that they were going to help Jon. Daniel wasn't sure which would be the best response because the truth of the matter was that it should have been simple. Younger or not, clone or not, Jon was someone he had considered a personal friend for years and they had just left him to fend for himself in the world with hardly a second thought. Yes, Jack had said the teen had told him he'd be fine and that he was going back to school again to figure out his place in the world. They should never have so blindly taken him at his word. Even if Jack himself was convinced, Daniel ought to have known better. After all, Jack O'Neill was always the last person to ever admit he was anything but fine, the last to ask for help - the last to let himself be an 'inconvenience' to the people he cared about.

Yes, Daniel should have known better.

He knocked quietly on the bathroom door, speaking up when there was no response. "Jon? May I come in?" Another minute or two passed before he opened the door, peeking around its edge to find Jon seated on the floor, his back pressed into the corner between the tub and the wall. Closing the door behind him, the man took a seat beside the teen, careful not to touch him. Jon pulled a hand away from his eyes just long enough to verify Daniel's identity before covering his face once more.

"Cassie okay?" Jon asked after a moment, voice a bit hoarse. "Did I scare her?"

Daniel studied the boy, taking in his hunched posture. The teen was curled in on himself, knees drawn to his chest, shoulders stooped. His hands trembled where they pressed against his eye sockets and the archaeologist was certain he could see moisture escaping from beneath them. He was the very image of dejection.

"I think you gave us all a bit of a fright," he said finally. Jon lifted his head to look at him, as Daniel suspected he would. "But she's alright. Just worried about you. We all are."

"I'm sorry," the teen murmured, gazed focused on one knee. "I've just been..."

"Tense? Jumpy?" Daniel suggested when he trailed off, earning a noncommittal shrug. "As I understand it, PTSD can do that to you."

Sighing heavily, the teen ran both hands over his face before letting his head fall back against the wall. He picked at a loose thread in his pants, a muscle along his jaw working agitatedly. If there hadn't been tears on his face before, there certainly were, now. "I don't..." Jon haltingly began. "I don't understand why all of this is coming back, now. I've already _ dealt _ with this crap. Why should I have to deal with it again?"

"Well, let's see," the anthropologist offered lightly, ticking off items with his fingers. "You're the 15-year-old clone of a 51-year-old military officer who originally thought he'd be 'made big' again, only that didn't happen, so now you have to navigate growing up and going to school and figuring your life out all over again. Not only that, you've lost everything you've ever known: your career, your house, your life. Technically, you still have your name, but I imagine even that must feel like it's not quite yours anymore at times."

"Is this supposed to be making me feel better?" Jon butted in. "Because I've gotta be real with you, Daniel - it's really not."

"I'm... I'm getting there," Daniel said. "My point is that, you've had everything you've ever known pulled out from under you. It's no wonder you're having nightmares and difficulty coping."

The teen looked startled, surprised that Daniel had seen through his mask. He thought he'd been hiding it pretty well. He gave a miserable sigh. "So, I've just gotta deal with it."

"Not alone."

Jon looked up at the man, brown eyes questioning and uncertain.

"You don't have to go through all this alone, Jon," the man reiterated, "because whatever else you've lost, we're still friends. I'm still here for you. And I'm so sorry it took me so long to realize you might still need me."

The youth dropped his gaze, fingers fidgeting a bit. "But I'm not... I'm not _ him _, anymore. Not really," he protested softly, a note of insecurity in his tone.

"No. No, you're not. You're someone new, now, and you get to decide what stays the same and what will be different, but that doesn't make you any less important than him," Daniel said sincerely. "Being Jack O'Neill's clone and still having his memories - that makes you his equal. And how you choose to live your life, now? That makes you your own person. I'd really like to be able to know that person."

Jon peered at him for a long moment. "That's kinda sappy," he declared, even as the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile. "Thanks, Daniel."

The archaeologist bumped shoulders with the teen. "Any time," he replied. "Think you're ready to face this dinner thing, now?"

"We're still sure Doc doesn't have any of her needles?"

Daniel rolled his eyes and stood to his feet, pretending not to notice as Jon swiped at his cheeks. "I'm pretty sure she didn't bring any syringes to dinner," he drawled, "but feel free to ask her yourself."

"You know what? I think I'll pass," Jon said decisively.

"Probably smart," said the archaeologist, offering him a hand up. He opened the door and motioned for Jon to precede him.

Jon hesitated, wiping his palms on his jeans and drawing in a deep breath. He could do this. It was just Doc and Cassie, and _ sure _ he just totally freaked out in front of them, but what's a freak out between friends or whatever? It couldn't be that bad, right? Now, if only he could convince his feet.

Daniel's hand settled against his shoulder, applying reassuring pressure. Suddenly, it was easier to put on his game face and start moving forward. After all, his best friend had his six - what more could a guy ask for?

It turned out that dinner with the Fraisers, after the initial awkwardness, was rather nice. Comfortable, even. It felt a lot like the start of a new normal.

#

* * *

_Continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** _Just wanted to stop and thank those who've read and given this story love so far! I appreciate you all._

* * *

**Chapter 4**

#

Daniel's eyes snapped open, the man instantly alert despite having just woken. It took but another minute to determine what had roused him from his sleep: noise coming from his living room. This time, he knew what it was. Throwing back the covers, he rose from his bed and left his room. He paused in the entryway to the living room, second-guessing himself.

On the sofa, Jon thrashed in his sleep, muttering unintelligible protests. The archaeologist knew that Jack would hate to be caught in the middle of a nightmare, that he might even prefer to wake on his own - or claim to, at least. But this wasn't Jack. Not anymore. This was Jon, and Jon was just a teenage boy with a mind filled with the horrors witnessed by a man thrice his age. Daniel wasn't about to leave him alone in his distress. Not this time.

"Jon," he called out to the teen as he moved over to the couch, reaching out shake him by the shoulder. "Jon?"

Jon's arm flung out in response, catching the man in the side of the face. Daniel caught the boy's wrist before he could land another blow, barely managing to grab his other arm as it swung towards him. The teen struggled against him, legs snapping up to knee his captor in the back.

"Jon!" Daniel shouted, laying on the boy's legs to keep from getting kicked again. "Jon, wake up! Jon! Jack!"

With a gasp, Jon sat up, the sudden movement knocking Daniel onto the floor. He looked wildly about, breaths coming in frantic pants. A movement at his side caused him to lash out in self-defense.

"Whoa!" His arm was caught before he could strike his target. "Easy! Jon, it's Daniel. It's okay. You were having a nightmare. You're okay."

"Daniel?" Jon stared at the man in the dark, finally recognizing his surroundings. He let a shaky breath as he scrubbed at his face with one hand. "What are you doing? You scared the crap out of me!"

"Yeah, I know," Daniel soothed. "I didn't mean to do that." He released his hold on Jon's forearm in favor of rubbing at his sore jaw.

"Did I hit you?"

The man looked up into the teen's stricken features. "It's fine, Jon. It was an accident."

"For crying out loud - no, it isn't!" Jon exclaimed a bit angrily. "I know I'm scrawny right now, but I'm still Black Ops trained, Daniel! I could have seriously injured you. What were you thinking getting so close?!"

"You were having a nightmare-"

"So, you thought it'd be the perfect time to see how I'd react to your sudden proximity?"

"Look, I get it," Daniel said. "I made a mistake and I probably should have known better. Believe me, I won't do it again."

Jon gave him a hard look. "Make sure you don't. I don't wanna hurt you, okay? Next time, just... Just let me wake up on my own."

"I don't want to just let you stay trapped in a nightmare if I can do something about it," the man protested.

"Daniel-" the teen began, then just let out a sigh and flopped back into his pillow. "Forget it, just do what you want. It's not like I'm staying here forever."

"What?"

"The plumbing will eventually be fixed at my apartment," Jon pointed out. "I'll go back there and you won't have to worry about my nightmares, and I won't have to worry about beating the crap out of you in my sleep."

"Right," said Daniel thoughtfully. He rose to his feet, wincing as the movement pulled at a now-tender area on his back. "Think you can get back to sleep?"

There was long pause. "No," the teen finally replied.

"Might as well get up, then," the archaeologist said decisively. "I'll brew some coffee and we can play some chess or something."

Jon levered himself back up as the man went into the kitchen. "Can you even find your chess set in all this mess?"

"Funny," Daniel called back. Smirking to himself, Jon left the couch to go join him.

#

They ended up sitting on the sofa eating scorched microwave popcorn and ad-libbing bad dialog to some late night soap. Daniel did spare some worry that their laughter might wake the neighbors, but there was no pounding on the walls or floor. Even then, he'd have found it well worth it to see Jon smile - really smile.

Eventually, they must have fallen asleep because next thing Daniel knew, he was waking to late morning sunlight in his face and a crick in his neck.

He'd woken before Jon, a fact which spoke to how exhausted the teen must have been. Daniel stretched stiffly, nearly falling off the edge of the armchair. Finding his glasses and slipping them onto his face, he looked over to where Jon lay sprawled out on the sofa, one leg hanging off the side.

In slumber Jon looked every bit as young as the body he now inhabited. The cares that came from being Jack O'Neill, seasoned Air Force officer and leader of SG-1, were temporarily forgotten. He looked just like a kid.

No, Daniel was struck again, he _ was _ a kid. Just a fifteen-year-old boy who claimed to be a year older to sate his pride. And they'd left him to fend for himself. Worse, Daniel guiltily admitted to himself, they had _ forgotten _ about him.

Oh, god, what had they been thinking?

"You should take a picture."

Daniel started at the boy's sleep-roughened voice. "Huh?" he questioned wittily.

Yawning widely, Jon cracked open an eye to peer at him. "It would last longer, you creep," he teased with a smirk.

"Yeah. Sorry about that," Daniel sheepishly replied.

"Is there a reason you were watching me sleep?" the teen asked, shifting around to face the man properly.

"I was just thinking," he said.

"Right. Still creepy," Jon snorted. "Just a reminder that it'll be another two years before I'm legal again, Danny-boy."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Three," he corrected. "You're still only fifteen."

"Hey! I thought we agreed I was sixteen."

"Only if other people asked," Daniel reminded him.

Jon scoffed. "Semantics."

Daniel rose out of the chair, shooting the boy an amused smile. "Breakfast?" he suggested.

"Only if you aren't doing the cooking," Jon replied without hesitation.

"Brat," Daniel accused, but his expression was too fond to pass for a scowl.

#

Jon was curled up on the end of the sofa, a textbook forgotten in his lap and a show he wasn't paying any attention to on the TV. The weight of the book was enough to feel real, the murmuring of the talk show hosts preventing the room from falling into silence. It did nothing to prevent him from hearing a key in the door lock, however, and by the time said door opened, the teen was crouched behind the end of the couch with Daniel's baseball bat.

Somebody shuffled into the apartment and closed the door. Footsteps indicated they were heading towards the cramped kitchen. Already feeling foolish, Jon peeked around the arm of the sofa, confirming that the person entering was, in fact, Daniel. He rose to his feet.

He hadn't let go of the bat, though.

"It's Tuesday," Jon said when the archaeologist didn't look up from sorting his mail.

Daniel started, tensing as his attention snapped over to the teen. He relaxed marginally as his gaze landed on the youth. "It is," he replied a bit carefully.

"I thought you weren't getting back until Thursday."

The man's blue eyes tracked over him, lingering a moment on his improvised weapon. Jon watched a crease of concern form between his brows as pieces the man hadn't realized he'd been missing fell into place.

"The mission ended early," Daniel answered after a moment, in that distracted way he had when his thoughts were moving more quickly than his reaction time. "Are you - wait. No. Let me guess: you have a free period on Tuesdays."

Daniel was giving him an out. He'd clearly figured out that Jon had been lying about the reason he'd been back so early on Friday - he'd have to be an idiot not to, and Daniel was anything but stupid - but he was willing to accept the excuse anyway. Even if he didn't believe it. Even though the last thing the man wanted to do was ignore the fact that Jon was obviously skipping school.

God, he'd missed his friend so much.

"Not exactly," Jon admitted, gripping the back of his neck with one hand. He finally put down the bat and sank back down onto the sofa.

The archaeologist had put down the mail and leaned back against the edge of the counter looking into the kitchen. His arms were folded across his chest and lips pressed together as he focused his attention on the teen, expression open, patiently waiting. It was his patented 'you-can-talk-to-me' pose. Jon wondered if Daniel realized quite how effective it truly was.

Jon heaved a sigh. "I sort of… had a panic attack," he pressed on, his own gaze fixed on his hands. "There was this jock - he wasn't even trying to be a jerk or anything. Nice guy, actually. But the hall was crowded with people and he wasn't watching where he was going and _ I _ didn't even see him until he'd ran into me. And he's big. A lot bigger than I am, now, and I just - I freaked out. One minute, I'm at school, and the next I…" He let out a unsteady breath, twisting his fingers together to stop them from shaking.

"The next thing I knew, people were gathered all around and I had the quarterback eating tile. So, I got out of there, came back here. I think I got suspended for fighting or something, maybe. I don't know," said Jon, rubbing both hands over his face.

Daniel crossed the room, then, gingerly taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch. "What can I do, Jon?" he asked. "Tell me how I can help."

"You don't have to do that, Danny," Jon protested.

"I know that, but I'd like to help, anyway," Daniel stated reasonably. "Do you want me to talk to your school? Maybe try to explain what's going on with you?"

"God, no, Daniel, just - how would that even play out? You gonna tell them you're my father?"

"Well, I was thinking more like your guardian, but yeah. We should at least find out whether you've been suspended or not," the man pointed out.

Jon groaned, less in protest than chagrin over the whole situation. "I hate when you make sense," he complained. "But yeah, that'd probably be good. Beats doing it myself."

"Well, don't get used to it," Daniel said dryly. "I'm still going to make you schedule your own doctor's appointments."

"Like you wouldn't just take me straight to Fraiser yourself," the teen scoffed, slouching back into the couch cushions. He met the man's gaze, tone sincere as he added softly, "Thanks, Daniel. For… well, I know you didn't sign up for all my crap when you agreed to let me crash on your couch. So, thank you."

That was the thing, though. Daniel might not have expected anything that had happened in the last few days, but he wouldn't change a thing. In fact, he couldn't help but feel like he'd been given a chance to fix something he'd done horribly wrong.

So, he gave the boy a soft smile, slowly reaching out to gently clasp his shoulder. "Anytime, Jon," Daniel replied earnestly. "Thank you for being honest with me."

#

* * *

_Continued..._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** _Final chapter, folks. Epilogue to follow. _

* * *

**Chapter 5**

#

As it turned out, Jon had been suspended for two weeks. No amount of explanation or reasoning would change the principal's mind. He'd also been the one to catch him 'fighting' and insisted he knew what he saw. In the end, Daniel decided it was just as well. Jon could definitely use a break from hallways crowded with people and surprises.

Also, Daniel concluded rather uncharitably, Jon's high school principal was a self-important dickbag.

Jon accepted the news with a shrug and an air of inevitability. Daniel wished he hadn't. Not that reacting in another way would have made any difference. It just felt off putting that the youth should accept it so passively and without protest. As though it weren't entirely unfair.

It was early Thursday when Jon finally got word back on his apartment. He hung up Daniel's phone with more force than was strictly necessary, cursing aloud.

"Problem?" Daniel questioned over his coffee mug.

"Well, apparently, the repairs on my building still aren't done yet," Jon answered with a snideness that wasn't directed at the archaeologist. "Oh, no. As a matter-of-fact, they're going to take at least another week or more while they tear out half the walls and replace the ruined carpets. Not to worry, though. If the wait is too inconvenient, they'll be happy to let me cancel my lease without a penalty. Damn it ." He dragged a hand roughly through his hair.

Daniel had put down his coffee, finger tapping lightly against the cup as he studied the boy. "That's… inconvenient," he allowed. "I still meant what I said before, though. You can stay here as long as you need. It's not like I'm even here all the time."

"I know you did, Daniel," Jon sighed, pouring himself some coffee before plopping down into a chair beside the man. "And don't think I haven't noticed that you're here when you'd usually be holed up with one of your rocks."

"Artifacts," the scientist corrected without any hope of the teen calling them by their proper name.

The youth continued, palms pressed against the warmth of his mug. "It's just - you shouldn't have to do this. Any of it. This is your place, Daniel, and eventually you're going to want your sofa back. You're not really my guardian, you know. You are under no obligation to let me stay here."

Daniel found himself distracted by the way Jon's words echoed around his head. They were technically right. It was his apartment. Jon wasn't really some teenager in need of adult supervision. As far obligation , however...

"Yeah, no. I know," he responded a little belatedly, "but that's kinda what friends do for each other, isn't it? Offer up their couches to crash on?"

"Technically, I showed up on your doorstep asking for a favor," said Jon.

Daniel gave the teen a playful shove. "Still. You're welcome here, Jon," he told him, meeting his gaze. "I want you to be here."

Jon held his gaze awhile longer, gauging his sincerity. What he found must have had him convinced because he looked back down at his coffee. He fidgeted in that O'Neill way when a discussion became too close to a heart-to-heart without the aid of alcohol.

"Thanks," he murmured into his mug before taking a sip.

"You're welcome," Daniel replied. His mind was already somewhere else.

#

At exactly 10:22 Saturday morning, Cassie knocked on Daniel's door on a mission to drag Jon out and to the mall with her. Jon hadn't stood a chance (he never had, to be fair), finally surrendering to the girl's insistent pleas and cajoling. At 10:36, the two teens left the apartment and climbed into Cassie's car.

There was no need to mention to the boy that Daniel was the one who gave her said mission.

Daniel had gotten the team to help - after having finally told them about the teen staying with him. Sam hadn't seemed surprised, so she'd probably heard it from Janet and waited for him to tell them. Teal'c, of course, had taken the news in stride (although Daniel wondered if the jaffa had somehow known already). Jack… was Jack about it, voicing an incredulous quip about Daniel harboring his mini-me.

None of them had been hard to talk around. Not even Jack. All of them arrived in front of Daniel's apartment building a little more than twenty minutes after the teens had left.

They took to their task with an easy camaraderie. It felt right, not only working together with his team - his family - but what they were doing. It was right and they were all glad to be doing it.

Even Jack, despite how weird he complained it would be.

#

It was late by the time Cassie finally took pity on him and took him back to Daniel's. He swore that the girl dragged him through every single shop at the mall, stopping for lunch, then getting an obscene amount of snacks when they went to the theater for a movie later on (it was some teen flick that was way better than Jon cared to admit). When they parked in front of the apartment complex, Cassie got out with him, saying she wanted to talk to Daniel.

Jon paused inside the door, immediately noticing the change to the living room. Two giant bookshelves now covered the wall behind the TV stand, loaded down with books and random artifacts. They made the already cramped room seem even smaller. He was pretty sure they'd been in Daniel's office or study or whatever he called it, so why were they in the living room? Especially since he'd already had a shelf in there?

"Daniel?" he called out a bit warily, Cassie trailing along behind him as he moved further into the apartment.

Daniel appeared from his bedroom, hair tousled and clothes a bit dusty. "You're back," he greeted, pushing his glasses up his nose. He glanced down at his watch. "It's late." The latter seemed to be directed more at Cassie, who shrugged guilelessly.

"Is there a reason you've turned your living room into a library?" Jon asked.

"Uh, yes, actually. Yes, there is," the man replied, wrapping his arms around himself and looking a little uncertain. "Why don't you come take a look?" He gestured towards his study and after sending a suspicious glance at Cassie - she obviously knew what was going on, the brat - Jon took the few steps down the short hall and into the room in question.

It didn't look like a study anymore. It looked like - but that couldn't be right.

A single sized bed was beneath the small window, a dresser taking up the space to the left. In the corner opposite the door was a simple desk. Jon's bag had been relocated next to it.

"Daniel?" Jon repeated himself, other words seeming to fail him. Because it couldn't possibly be what it looked like. Daniel already had a bedroom. What possible reason could he have-

"I know you don't actually need anyone to look after you," Daniel interrupted his whirling thoughts. "You're more than capable of looking after yourself - I know that. But I also meant what I said: I want you here. You're my friend, Jon. You're family. And I'd really like it if you'd stay and let me be there for you."

Jon let out a shuddery breath and pressed a hand against his stinging eyes. It was what it looked like. Daniel had made a place for him. The room had been gathering dust and books and artifacts since the man had moved into the apartment, but he had cleared it all out and redistributed it within his already limited space. For Jon .

"Dammit, Daniel," he muttered thickly, rubbing at his face. He was not crying, he wasn't ; he'd just gotten dust in his eyes. "You gotta warn a guy." The teen looked over at the man who gave a small smile in return.

"Does that mean you'll stay?" the archaeologist asked.

"Sure. Let's try this thing," Jon agreed.

A moment later, he was virtually tackled by an excited Cassandra, who was gushing about how great it would be to have him close. "Where you belong!" Jon didn't disagree, on principle, but it still felt unreal. As though he would wake up in his own lonely apartment and find it was all a dream.

In fact, it wasn't until a week later that it truly started to sink in. Team night was being hosted at Daniel's - at their place and everyone was situated around the cramped living room. Both O'Neills were doing their best to pretend like having their duplicate around wasn't strange (it was a work in progress). Sam was trying to contain her happiness at having him around (you'd think one O'Neill would be enough for her, but maybe it was just that mothering instinct of hers kicking into overdrive). Meanwhile, Teal'c kept asking him questions about school and the life of a Taur'i teenager (boring and full of inane rules and restrictions, big guy).

Daniel had settled into the couch beside him, offering him a bowl of scorched microwave popcorn as Jack put some b-rated horror movie into the VCR. It promised to be hysterically bad. Jon couldn't believe he hadn't seen it yet.

"Thanks, Daniel," Jon told the man. They both knew he wasn't talking about the popcorn.

His life had changed a lot in the past two weeks and he was certain it would only change more, but for the first time since he'd learned he was a clone, he was starting to feel real again. He was starting to feel that maybe his life wasn't some cruel joke. And most importantly, Jon felt like he'd found his way back home.

Maybe - just maybe - change wasn't so bad, after all.

#

* * *

_Epilogue to follow_


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

#

Jon sat at the counter in the Fraisers' kitchen, pouting a bit as he watched Cassie ice Christmas cookies she wouldn't let him eat. "Being older has made you mean," he groused. "Where's your Christmas spirit?"

"If I let you have one you'll talk me into having three," the girl pointed out. "I already told you, Jonny. These are for the neighbors."

"I'd appreciate them more," Jon scoffed.

Cassie just shook her head and smiled in amusement. The boy fidgeted in his seat, bored. He was supposed to be helping Cassie with the cookies, but she had barred his 'assistance' when it became clear that he was far more interested in taste-testing. From the other room, Daniel's and Janet's voices could be heard as she directed him in hanging decorations in places out of her reach. Jon turned towards the living room, eyes narrowing speculatively.

"So," he said to Cassie, tone pitched to carry and a bit too loud to be strictly conversational, "when do you think Daniel and your mom will finally go on their first date?"

Something from the other room thudded to the carpet.

"I mean, I can't be the only one who's noticed the thing between them," Jon continued. "You see it, too, right?"

Cassie was grinning widely at his antics. She responded just as loudly, never pausing in her task, "Oh, definitely. Why do you think we keep inviting you guys over?"

"Okay, now, I'm hurt," he protested gamely. "I thought you appreciated my sterling personality."

"You know we can hear you guys, right?" Daniel called from the other room, sounding appropriately embarrassed. Jon was pretty sure he could hear Janet laughing, though.

"Uh, yeah. Kinda the point, Danny-boy. Catching the hint, yet?" he snarked back.

Daniel appeared in the doorway, pinching the bridge of his nose, glasses in his free hand. "Jon, we can't just-" the archaeologist began.

"Actually, I'd love to go out for dinner sometime with just the two of us," Janet spoke up, carrying a small box to the dining table behind him.

"But that's not the - I mean… Wait, what?" Daniel stammered, turning towards her in surprise.

The doctor gave an amused grin. "Well, you don't think the kids are the only ones who've noticed this thing between us, do you?" she teased.

"Thing? That is… No. No, I suppose I don't," Daniel conceded, face flushed as he sheepishly ducked his head.

"Exactly," Janet replied, taking a small aluminum tree from the box and setting it in the middle of the table. "So, how about it, Daniel? Take me out on a date."

"You know what? I think I will," Daniel agreed, returning the redhead's smile.

"Finally!" Jon declared loudly. He and Cassandra exchanged a high-five - it had been a trying couple of months of playing matchmaker. Cassie also slid him one of the cookies she'd said he couldn't have.

Life was great.

#


End file.
